


MFS Week 2020

by fab_fan



Series: MFS Week [1]
Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Young Love, mfs week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_fan/pseuds/fab_fan
Summary: “Raelle is asking Scylla to go to Madam Puddifoot's with her during the Hogsmeade trip this weekend.” Tally answered her.Madam Puddifoot's, the garishly pink monstrosity of a tea house Hogwarts students saw as the perfect date spot.“You’re taking Ramshorn to Madam Puddifoot's?” Abigail turned sharp disbelieving eyes on the other girl.“No, I’m not.” Raelle shoved between a couple holding hands, ignoring their grumbles of indignation.-----------Entries for the MFS Week 2020.Day 1: Hogwarts AUDay 2: Found FamilyDay 3: Non Magic AUDay 4: Canon DivergenceDay 5: Enemies to LoversDay 6: Soulmate AUDay 7: Free Day
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Series: MFS Week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807099
Comments: 112
Kudos: 433





	1. See You (Hogwarts AU)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all. I'm trying my hand at MFS Week 2020. Let's see how this goes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Raelle is asking Scylla to go to Madam Puddifoot's with her during the Hogsmeade trip this weekend.” Tally answered her.
> 
> Madam Puddifoot's, the garishly pink monstrosity of a tea house Hogwarts students saw as the perfect date spot.
> 
> “You’re taking Ramshorn to Madam Puddifoot's?” Abigail turned sharp disbelieving eyes on the other girl. 
> 
> “No, I’m not.” Raelle shoved between a couple holding hands, ignoring their grumbles of indignation.

“Are you going to ask her?”

“What? Tally, no.” Raelle huffed as she marched down the hallway, messenger bag full of quills, ink, and parchment swaying at her side. 

The redhead trapised out from behind the rather large statue of a gargoyle, which, if Raelle didn’t know any better, she would think her friend had been hiding behind so that she could trap her into a conversation that was not happening.

“Why not?” Tally swung around, sidling up beside the shorter girl, “I think she’d like it.”

“No, Tal.” Raelle sighed, already feeling her headache from Muggle Studies intensify. How could a course she took because she wanted an easy elective be the most difficult class of the year? She’d spent half the time arguing with that idiot Treefine about how no, cell phones did not work like that, so please stop yelling into the thing, she could hear her just fine. And they were supposed to be texting. With the keypad. Rubbing at her temple, she pushed past a gaggle of first years milling about in the middle of the hallway, “It’s not like that.”

“Not like what?” Abigail rounded the corner, robes flowing behind her determined steps.

Abigail wasn’t even supposed to be on this side of the castle.

“Raelle is asking Scylla to go to Madam Puddifoot's with her during the Hogsmeade trip this weekend.” Tally answered her.

Madam Puddifoot's, the garishly pink monstrosity of a tea house Hogwarts students saw as the perfect date spot.

“You’re taking Ramshorn to Madam Puddifoot's?” Abigail turned sharp disbelieving eyes on the other girl. 

“No, I’m not.” Raelle shoved between a couple holding hands, ignoring their grumbles of indignation.

“She’s going to ask her tonight after dinner.” Tally continued, as if the person who would actually be doing the asking wasn’t even there, “Right in front of everyone, so they know how much she likes Scylla. Big gesture.”

Abigail raised an eyebrow, “And Ramshorn is ok with that?”

“No, because it’s not happening.” Raelle muttered.

“You’re right. Much too open. Something more private works for this.” Tally nodded. “A moonlit walk outside by the lake.” She grabbed Raelle’s bicep, giving it a friendly squeeze, “She’ll love it.”

“Wow, Collar. Pulling out the romance. Didn’t know you had it in you.” Abigail smirked.

“Goddess, “ Raelle spun around, raising her hands, “I’m not asking Scylla Ramshorn to go to Madam Puddifoot's or Hogsmeade or anywhere!”

Tally stared at her, wide eyed and mouth open in horror. Abigail looked caught between shock and amusement.

Raelle’s hands slowly fell to her side.

Oh no.

She knew without needing to turn around.

“Hi Tally. Bellweather.”

Tally gave a tiny wave, “Hi, Scylla.”

Raelle pursed her lips, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before slowly turning around to come face to face with the sixth year Slytherin. Her features reflected calm amusement, as if she hadn’t a care in the world, but her stormy blue eyes bore into Raelle’s flickering back and forth. 

“Hi, Raelle.”

“Hey, Scylla.”

“On your way to Potions?”

Raelle nodded mutely.

“I’d offer to walk with you, but it sounds like you might not want to go anywhere with me.”

“Scylla,” Tally spoke up, mouth working as she tried to find the words to say to dig her friend out of this hole.

“It’s fine, Tally.” Scylla flashed her a small smile, “I heard Raelle loud and clear. She’s not asking me to go anywhere with her.”

“Listen, Ramshorn.” even Abigail jumped in, worriedly peeking at the back of her friend’s head.

“No, it’s fine. Really.” Scylla held up a hand. “Right, Raelle?”

“She didn’t mean it like that.” Tally tried to assure the brunette. “She’s just had a long day, and we all know she really does want to go with you to Madam Puddifoot’s.” Her mouth snapped shut as Abigail elbowed her side. 

“She does?” Scylla’s brow quirked, “Didn’t sound like it.”

“Scylla,” Tally started again, voice growing desperate as the very thought that she’d ruined this for Raelle crashed down on her.

“Goddess,” Raelle threw her hands in the air, “I already asked her to go with me to Honeydukes because she ran out of fizzing whizbees and Dogweed and Deathcap because they have weird plants and Maddam Puddifoot's is overrated and really pink!” 

Scylla snickered as the other two witches stared at Raelle, the blonde breathing heavily from her outburst.

Abigail recovered first, “You already asked her?”

Scylla nodded, stepping up and taking her girlfriend’s hand, “Two days ago. It was cute. She blushed a lot and dropped an entire bottle of quill ink.”

“You blushed too, and stabbed a hole through your Potions essay with your quill.” Raelle mumbled.

Scylla squeezed her hand and pecked her cheek, “Very charming.”

Raelle rolled her eyes but pulled her in close, letting go of her hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

“Oh. My. Goddess!” Tally squealed, clapping her hands together, “You two are adorable together.”

“Tally, no. Stop it.” Raelle pointed at her. The moment she let her hand drop, Scylla took it in her own. 

“You unfortunately are.” Abigail begrudgingly agreed. She nodded at Raelle, “Good job, Collar. Glad we don’t have to dig you out of this mess, too.”

“Come on, before you end up getting yourself into more trouble.” Scylla tugged her towards the hallway they needed to go down. 

“See you later, Scylla!” Tally waved.

Scylla waved over her shoulder before poking Raelle’s side, earning a jump and half hearted glare, “How do you know what the inside of Madam Puddifoot’s looks like?”

Raelle maneuvered them toward the stairs, “Byron.”

“Of course.”

“He talked for twenty minutes about the cherubs.”

“Not the cherubs!” Scylla playfully gasped.

Raelle shot her an unamused look.

Scylla grinned, brushing a kiss to her cheek, “Do I need to remind you I still have an entire box of chocolate frogs you left in my dorm when we go?”

“No.”

* * *

“Rae, you already got two boxes here, and you haven’t even opened the one in my room.”

“They’re so good, though.” Raelle juggled the mountain of sweets and candies in her arms.

Scylla rolled her eyes, “There is no way you are going to eat all those.”

“Eat them?” Raelle frowned.

Scylla stared at her for a minute, “You’re just getting them for the cards.”

“I can’t find a Ptolemy!”

“How do people think you’re a badass?”

Raelle bristled, “I am.”

Scylla patted her shoulder, “You’re a grump with a secret card collection. How do you know Ptolemy isn’t in the box back at School?”

“I had Tally look.”

Scylla laughed.

Looking at the boxes in her hands, Raelle spoke quietly, “My mama and I used to collect them together. Before she died. Everytime she left we’d buy a chocolate frog, and we’d wait till she came back home to open it and see what card we got. Dad always ate the frog. He still thinks magic is cool.”

Scylla recalled how, once a week, Raelle would write page after page of parchment to her dad, telling him everything about what had been going on, from how she’d interacted with a hippogriff in class and got a bow in return to the way the Great Hall looked during the Halloween festivities that year.

Scylla knew the day Raelle wrote about her, because Scylla received an excited letter of her own from Edwin.

It was the first letter she’d received at Hogwarts since her parents died. 

If there were extra cuddles that night when she met up with Raelle, the blonde didn’t mention it.

Taking the boxes from Raelle’s hands, Scylla deposited them in the bag and grabbed two more before leading her down the aisle full of chocolate wands and cockroach clusters.

When they reached the cashier, he quickly rang up their total. 

“Scyl, can you grab a box of ice mice? I forgot I was going to get some for Tally.” Raelle peeked at her girl.

“Of course,” Scylla went to fetch the treat. When she returned, the rest of the candies were already boxed and ready to go.

“Come on,” Raelle grabbed her hand, “Already took care of it.” She grabbed the ice mice and tossed it in a box before sauntering out, Scylla at her side.

“Where to next?” asked Raelle as the spring air greeted them with a flourish of sunshine and warmth, “Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer? Byron is at Puddifoot's. We can make faces at him through the window.”

“How about a walk?” 

“Ok,”

The couple slowly started strolling down the street, hands joined and swinging lightly. 

After a few minutes, Scylla cleared her throat, “My parents loved ice mice. Well, my dad did. My mom liked them alright, but her favorite was Bertie Botts.” She swallowed thickly, “I know I don’t talk about myself a lot. It’s not...that I don’t want to tell you about me. It’s hard. I’m not used to trusting people. I’ve been burned before.”

Raelle stopped walking. She stepped around so she was facing Scylla, “Take all the time you need.”

Scylla’s jaw worked, her mouth trembling slightly in the wake of such honesty and affection.

“Hey,” Raelle bent her head, catching her gaze, “I’m not going anywhere, ok? I’m right here. With you.”

Scylla nodded, “Ok.”

“Ok,” Raelle repeated. She grinned, “I have an idea.”

Scylla’s face pinched in confusion, “What?”

“Come on,” Raelle led her away from the town, past the little shops and storefronts and down a path leading toward the Shrieking Shack.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Live a little.” Raelle playfully shot back. Both of them remembered when the older girl said that when they were first getting to know each other, teasingly dragging the other girl toward the Forbidden Forest.

A few moments later, they happened upon a bench overlooking a clump of trees. In the distance, the Shrieking Shack stood tall in the afternoon sun.

“No one comes out here since Professor Quartermaine caught some fourth years trying to scare each other in the Shack.” The punishment was the stuff of legends. Professor. L’Amara was involved. 

She dropped the boxes of treats next to the bench and settled down, lifting one of them into her arms and opening it. Scylla sat beside her as she watched her dig around.

With a little triumphant “Aha” Raelle pulled out the ice mice and Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. “Here’s these.” she handed the mice to Scylla.

“I thought these were for Tally.”

“Trust me, she’s fine if we eat them.” Raelle shook the box of beans, “Want to play a game?”

Scylla gave her a questioning look.

“We each pick a bean. If you can guess the flavor before eating it, you can ask a question. If you don’t, I get to ask a question. Same with me.”

“Ok.”

“Ok, cool.” she ripped open the box and held it out.

Scylla reached in, pulling out a red colored candy.

Her shoulders dropped. Red could be almost anything. At least it wasn’t grey.

Like the murky one Raelle pulled out.

She giggled as Raelle cursed under her breath.

“What’s your guess?” Raelle nodded at Scylla’s hand.

“Hmmmmm….cherry.” she popped it in her mouth. 

Her face screwed up adorably as the strongest flavors hit her tongue and the back of her throat, “Chili.”

“Ha!” Raelle gleefully waved her hands.

She now got to ask a question.

Raelle leaned toward Scylla, her joy turning serious, “Will you come home with me over summer break?”

Scylla, mentally preparing herself for a question, startled at what actually was asked.

She blinked, not fully processing the words.

Go home? With Raelle?

Raelle scooted closer, “I know you have your own stuff, your own plans. And, that’s ok. But, I’d really like you to meet my dad. And, not seeing you for the entire summer is...I don’t like it. You’ll have your own room. You can do whatever you want, no pressure.” She gulped, “I know we haven’t been together that long. A few months. But, you can grow some of your plants out in the back garden. It used to be my mama’s. She grew medicinal herbs, but you can grow whatever you want, even those mushrooms. I won’t bother you if you want to be alone, but I’ll be around if you don’t.”

Scylla cut her off with a kiss.

Raelle sank into the touch, nearly toppling over as she leaned in further. Scylla brought a hand up to her chest, holding her in place.

As they broke apart, Raelle slowly blinked her eyes open.

Scylla gave her a watery smile, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” Scylla nodded, I’ll go home with you over break.”

Raelle’s grin was visible from space, “Great.”

Scylla bit her lip, ducking her head.

Raelle stared at her, unable to look away.

“Go on,” Scylla pointed, “Try yours.”

“Oh, uh…” Raelle blanched at the grey color. “Please not vomit.” She popped it in her mouth.

And immediately gagged.

“It’s soap. Goddess, it’s soap.” she coughed, face showing pure disgust.

Scylla had to laugh.

How could she not?

Raelle reached back in the box, desperate for something to get rid of the flavor in her mouth.

She blindly pulled out another grey one and shoved it in her mouth.

She nearly threw up.

“It’s vomit.” she bent over, arms wrapping around her stomach, “Damn it.”

Scylla patted her back, laughing hysterically, “Rae, are you ok?”

Relle shook her head, “‘s vomit.”

Scylla rubbed her back, “Breathe, Rae.”

“It’s so bad.”

“I know.”

“Why do they make these?”

“I don’t know.”

“This is so bad.”

Scylla chuckled.

Eyes watering, Raelle wiped her sleeve across her mouth, “Ask your question.”

Scylla leaned back, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Why did you ask me out?”

Raelle squinted up at her, “What?”

Scylla fidgeted, clasping her hands in her lap, “Why did you ask me out?” She shrugged, “We never exactly hung out or had the same friends.”

Raelle blinked, “Scyl,”

“I just wonder sometimes.” a tiny shrug.

Raelle sat up straight, her eyes heartfelt, “You were the first person to talk to me.”

Scylla frowned.

“On the platform for the train. My mama couldn’t be there, she was away, and my dad’s a muggle. They wouldn’t let him crossover. I didn’t know where to go. Everyone else was talking with their families or their friends. I didn’t know anyone. I was confused and mad my mom was gone and my dad couldn’t be there. But...you came up to me. You helped me get my trunk on the train and sat with me.” A shrug, “You saw me. I haven’t been able to see anyone else since.” 

Scylla’s heart clenched.

“Once I knew I liked you, you were with Porter. Then...I just didn’t think you’d say yes. Different Houses. I’m more muggle than witch. And your parents...and my mama...it just never seemed like the right time. Like I’d get a yes.” A humorless laugh, “Tally and Abigail finally had enough and threatened to hex me into next week if I didn’t ask you. So, I walked up to you after you had Potions, and we started talking and...you kissed me. How could I not ask you out?”

“Raelle,” Scylla breathed out. She curled her hand into the front of Raelle’s shirt, pulling her in for a vomit flavored kiss.

As they broke apart, Raelle murmured, “Can we keep the chocolate frogs and open them when we go home for summer? Dad hasn’t had a chocolate frog in forever.”

“Yeah, Rae.” Scylla caressed the side of her throat, thumb sweeping along the edge of her shirt collar, “It can be the first thing we do when we get there.”

“Thanks.”

“Raelle?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the only one I see, too.”


	2. Stupid Tradition (Found Family)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wow, you look amazing.”
> 
> Scylla ducked her head, hiding her blush. Her hands shook slightly as she turned to see Tally standing in the doorway, an exuberant grin stretching her cheeks as wide as they could go.
> 
> “Raelle is going to faint when she sees you.” Tally moved into the room, closing the door behind her. “Really,” her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, “Byron has a bet going that she won’t make it down the aisle without tripping at least twice.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could be read stand alone or alongside Cession Champagne.

The full length mirror was old. An antique passed down from generation to generation until it landed in Edwin Collar’s shed. When he heard the news, the plan, he dug it out and easily deposited it in the master bedroom with a grin and a cheery chuckle that warmed the heart of all who heard it. It was still smudged with bits of dust, but the glass was clean and smooth as crystal clear waters on a still evening, and the wood surrounding it was hand carved with intricate designs that one could spend hours tracing with their eyes and fingers.

Taking a deep breath, Scylla bit her bottom lip. She chewed on the tender flesh and smoothed her hand down the front of the fitted dress, banishing any potential wrinkles with a quick flick of the wrist. She took a moment, letting her dark blue orbs roam up and down, taking in the entire reflection.

Her hair was swept up, a simple yet elegant style that allowed the fluorescent lights of the room to reflect off the witch’s mark hidden at the nape of her neck. Her simple earrings sparkled almost as much as her eyes. A strong yet winsome jaw led down to a lithe neck, adorned with a thin gold chain with a small bluish medallion attached to the end, a bowerbird etched into it that Edwin had presented to her.

_Something blue._

Her dress was simple. Nothing over the top extravagant or eye catching. No long train of lace or hundreds of diamonds and pearls sown into the fabric. Just a white dress that she saw one day and knew was the one she wanted to wear.

“Wow, you look amazing.”

Scylla ducked her head, hiding her blush. Her hands shook slightly as she turned to see Tally standing in the doorway, an exuberant grin stretching her cheeks as wide as they could go.

“Raelle is going to faint when she sees you.” Tally moved into the room, closing the door behind her. “Really,” her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, “Byron has a bet going that she won’t make it down the aisle without tripping at least twice.” 

Scylla chuckled, but her hands shook even more as it fully hit her.

She was getting married.

To Raelle.

In just a few minutes.

As if sensing her nerves, Tally waltzed up to her and held out her arms, pulling her into a hug with no more warning, “I know you’re not a hugger, but I am, and you are marrying my best friend.”

Scylla awkwardly brought up her arms, patting Tally’s shoulder, “Raelle said you’d hug me.”

“I made her a hugger, I’ll make you one, too.” Tally vowed. She pulled back, but kept a hand on Scylla’s arm, “Seriously, you look hot. Gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” She tried to steady her pounding heart, “How is she?”

“Raelle?” Tally rolled her eyes playfully, “Freaking out. Pacing. Abigail said she’s never seen her execute a more perfect march and about face combination in her entire career. I think she’s trying to get one of Raelle’s LTs to record it...and have Anacostia provide commentary. New training video for the next recruits.”

Scylla shook her head, but her stomach clenched. Freaking out?

Raelle wouldn’t have second thoughts, would she?

Not now.

Not after everything they went through together.

Not after the emotional way she asked Scylla if she would spend forever with her.

Tally’s look softened, “She’s so nervous about messing up, it’s adorable. I walked by, and I heard her repeat her vows three times and had Byron on standby with an iron and ruler to make sure her uniform was perfect.” She squeezed her arm, “She is so ready to marry you. Glory thought you two would have eloped by now.”

“Raelle promised Ed he could be at her wedding.” Scylla shared absently, “He wants to make a speech.”

“Aww, that’s so cute.” Tally sighed, “You two are adorable.”

Scylla nodded, “Raelle and Edwin are close. She wouldn’t let him down.”

A pang shot through her, but she quickly squashed it.

She liked Edwin. Loved him, even. 

But, he wasn’t her dad.

Her parents weren’t there.

She turned away from Tally and slowly walked back to the mirror.

Her mom wasn’t there to fuss over her dress or remind her that if Raelle ever got out of line, she would be there in a hot second to set the soldier straight. Her dad wasn’t there to joke about his little wandering daydreamer settling down while giving her a look filled with such pride and love it would make her eyes water and ruin her makeup.

But, they weren’t there. They never would be.

Her fingers automatically went to the ring on her finger, fingertips sliding along the smooth band and small gem, twisting and turning it. The cool metal provided a small bit of comfort. If she closed her eyes, she could almost see the woman who had given it to her. Hear her heartfelt declarations followed by the question of a lifetime. If she tilted her head and thought harder, she could almost feel arms wrap around her waist and hold her close.

Before she could get lost in her thoughts, there was a firm knock on the door. Frowning, she looked at Tally, who shrugged, before walking over, “Yes?”

“Scyl?”

Scylla felt her face light up, “Raelle?”

The voice on the other side of the door was slightly muffled, “Hey.”

“Hey.” her brows furrowed in confusion, “What are you doing? Are you ok?”

They had agreed to follow a lot of the traditional civilian wedding customs.

That included not seeing each other starting the night before the wedding until the actual walk down the aisle.

The voice was a bit closer, as if Raelle was leaning her head against the wood, “I miss you.”

Her heart fluttered, “I miss you, too. You’ll see me in a few minutes.”

“Wanna see you now.” Raelle grumped. “This tradition is stupid.”

“You wanted a civilian wedding.”

“It’s dumb.” Raelle groused. There was a shuffling, “Byron, go away! No...tell Abigail I am not...I can’t see her!”

“Rae?”

“Abigail thinks I need a babysitter.”

She loved Raelle, but Abigail was probably right, “Stop pouting.”

Another sigh, “Goddess, I bet you’re gorgeous.”

Scylla hummed, “You’ll find out soon.”

“This is stupid.”

It really was.

“Oh,” Raelle’s voice perked up, “is Tally with you?”

Scylla glanced over at the redhead, “Yes.”

“Tell her Pop is still upset and I think Anacostia is too, but she won’t admit it. There was a lot of angry whispering. Izadora had to take Anacostia to get a drink.”

Upset? “About what?”

“They argued over who would get to walk you down the aisle. Tally is fierce, babe.”

Scylla’s eyes widened. 

What?

They had fought over her?

“What?” Tally spoke firmly, “You’re my friend. My family. Soon to be sister-in-law. Of course I’m walking with you.” 

Scylla didn’t know what to say. 

She might actually cry.

At her own wedding.

“Baby?” Raelle’s voice floated through.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Scylla closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, “I love you, too.”

“I’m marrying you.”

Scylla smiled, “You are.”

“We’re getting hitched.”

“Yes.”

“Goddess, I want to see you.” Her voice dropped to a throaty whisper, “I want to see my ring on your finger.”

Scylla swallowed thickly, “Me, too.”

“‘M gonna treat ya right.” Raelle vowed, “Forever. Promise.”

“I know you will, baby.” 

“Raelle! Goddess, I leave you alone for one minute and you end up with Necro.” Abigail’s voice echoed like a shot. "You were never this good at finding anything during training."

“I’m marrying her!” Raelle called back.

“Byron! You’re supposed to keep her in her room. You had one job.” Abigail’s voice grew closer, “Is that a flask?”

“Scyl, run away with me.” Raelle suddenly pleaded through the door.

“I swear, Collar, are you trying to mess up your uniform? We just got those wrinkles out.”

“I want to be with my wife, Bellweather.”

“She’s not your wife,and she’s not going to be if you don’t get back to your room and prepare to go outside.”

“She’s gonna be my wife.” grumbled Raelle. 

A sigh, “Hi, Scylla. Please, don’t mind your fiancee. She’ll be waiting for you near the matrimonialist like we practiced.” Her voice became a growl, “Bryon, if you gave her that flask…”

“It’s Edwin’s!” the boy shouted.

“Why do I have to wait? I’ve waited years for this.”

“You can wait fifteen more minutes. How did you mess up your sash? And smudge your boots. They were polished.”

“She thought she saw Scylla and ran into a door so she didn’t accidentally actually lay eyes on her.” Byron supplied.

“How much did you give her from that flask?”

“None!” Byron quickly replied.

“Guys, can I please talk to my girl alone for five minutes?”

“No,” Abigail put her foot down, “Let’s go, shitbird.”

A grumpy sigh, “See ya soon, beautiful. Save the first dance for me.”

“You already get the first dance.” Byron spoke with a hint of confusion 

“Shut up, Byron.”

Scylla could only shake her head as boots shuffled and shuttered away.

Tally drew her attention with an amused giggle, “Welcome to the family, Scylla. Rah Rah Unit Unity.”

* * *

Byron won the bet. Raelle tripped twice and nearly toppled over while standing still when she saw Scylla for the first time in her dress.

That was before she found the champagne and moonshine.


	3. Another Night (Non Magic AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who knew it could be so quiet with over a thousand people in one place?”
> 
> Raelle’s head whipped around. There, perched on a bench, was the silhouette of a young woman. As Raelle moved closer, the mirage took solid form. She looked to be about Raelle’s age, medium length brunette hair and a smirk that did something funny to the blonde’s belly. 
> 
> Raelle blinked at her, not expecting to run into anyone, let alone someone who looked like that.
> 
> “I swear, I’ve heard the life story and gossip for every single person on this ship.” the woman’s smirk deepened, “Except you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Non Magic AU. It's also a Historical AU (because I felt like it)
> 
> Thus, magic does not exist in this story, and it takes place in the past (early 1900s). Have fun.

The stars really were beautiful that night.

Raelle began her third lap around the deck, the freshly laid and polished wood clicking slightly against her heels with each step. Her arms swung lazily by her sides as she meandered, each step slow, one leg lifting casually after the other. She let her gaze wander, not really taking in the empty benches usually filled during the daytime by reading women and relaxing men. Her blue eyes skipped over the flawlessly painted railings and the deep dark abyss on the other side. Even the water was like glass, silent against the hull, yet she briefly imagined light lapping waves, the sea guiding the ship along, urging her forward at greater and greater speeds. The blanket of twinkling lights above in the moonless sky the map to their final destination.

The cool air nipped at her ears, and her lungs burned with a pain she’d become familiar with since leaving her southern home to follow after her mama’s final wish. Her dad didn’t like it, but he understood. Raelle wasn’t meant to stay in that small rickety town where she never quite fit in. Not with her smart mouth, reckless ways, and ever evolving penchant for trousers and boots over skirts and slips. Before her mama died, she promised she’d find a way to do what always came naturally to her. Heal people. Fix up their aches and pains. 

One thing led to another and here she was, a hard won education under her belt gained through hours of intense apprenticeship under the heralded Dr. Wick and even more hours in the backrooms of houses and apartments performing everything from checking a bump on the head to having her hand halfway in a man’s chest after a rather unfortunate incident with a candlestick holder.

Following the path of one long strip of wood, she walked along the crack between the boards, one foot placed delicately after the other over the crease. With the sky so dark it was near impossible to see without the short flashes of lamplight and the glittering of the stars overhead, Raelle found herself unknowingly moving sideways, not knowing she was near the wall until a voice called out to her.

“Who knew it could be so quiet with over a thousand people in one place?”

Raelle’s head whipped around. There, perched on a bench, was the silhouette of a young woman. As Raelle moved closer, the mirage took solid form. She looked to be about Raelle’s age, medium length brunette hair and a smirk that did something funny to the blonde’s belly. 

Raelle blinked at her, not expecting to run into anyone, let alone someone who looked like that.

“I swear, I’ve heard the life story and gossip for every single person on this ship.” the woman’s smirk deepened, “Except you.”

Raelle stopped a few paces from her, “No gossip to tell.”

“I doubt that.” the woman lifted her chin, silently asking her to share the seat next to her.

Raelle contemplated her for a moment. She was confident, exuding an aura of calm devil may care charm. Dressed to the nines with a heavy overcoat that spoke of wealth and privilege, she was everything a first class gal could be. Yet, there was a hint of something else. Like, she wasn't entirely comfortable in her role. Like a player playing a part. Taking on a stage role for a weekend show before strolling off to the next face and name to answer to as her own for an evening. 

“I promise I don’t bite….much.”

Raelle snorted and moved to the bench, “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Shouldn’t you?”

Raelle sat back, palms resting on her thighs, “Gettin’ some fresh air.”

“Me too.” She held up a hand, “I’m Scylla.”

Raelle glanced at it a second before taking it, smiling inwardly at the warm yet firm shake, “Raelle.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Raelle.” Scylla held on for a beat too long before releasing her hand.

Raelle nodded, the funny feeling in her stomach exploding into a fluttering mess that was like the flock of birds that always flew overhead back home during the autumn on their way to the distant border for winter.

“You were getting in quite the workout. I think this is the third lap I’ve clocked you on since I sat down.”

“You’ve been watchin’ me?”

“If I said I was?”

Raelle licked her lips, “I’d say there are much more interesting things to see.”

“I’d have to disagree.”

Raelle ducked her head, “You should have joined me. Or, at least, stopped me sooner.”

“I stopped you now.”

“I suppose you did.”

Scylla clasped her hands in her lap, “What’s your life story, Raelle? I feel incomplete knowing there’s one person on board I haven’t heard about, yet.”

“Not much of a story.” a shrug, “On my way home.”

“Where’s home?” 

“Carolina.” she glanced at her, “What about you?”

“All over.”

“Where’s all over?”

“Here and there.” Scylla waved a hand, “I move around a lot.”

“Let me guess...traveling circus?”

Scylla’s face flickered, her smirk dropping for barely the blink of an eye before steadying itself, “Something like that.”

“I’m willing to listen if you want to tell me about the elephants and the tigers.”

“Maybe another night.”

“Careful, Scylla. I might hold you to that.”

“I might let you.” she bit her lip.

Raelle shifted, angling her body so she could look more fully at her companion. She opened her mouth to say something, but a gentle fingertip against her jaw stopped her. She froze as the finger traced the outline of her scar, another reminder of her rough and tumble background.

“What’s this from?” Scylla asked quietly.

“Long story.” Raelle murmured. 

“I have all night.”

“Maybe another night.”

Scylla grinned, “Careful, Raelle. I might hold you to that.”

Raelle blinked as the hand dropped away, strangely missing the tender touch.

Scylla’s hands went back to her lap, “Come now, Raelle. Tell me about yourself. What’s your plan when we dock?”

“Head north, first. I know some people near Boston. Try to get work there with a local doctor.”

“A doctor?”

A nod, “I’m not a real doctor. No degree. But, I can help people.”

Scylla looked down, grasping one of Raelle’s hands. She traced the lines of her knuckles, “Healer’s hands, huh?”

“I guess.”

“You don’t know where you’ll work?”

“My friend knows some people. Otherwise, I’ll look around till something pops up. Head south till I hit home.”

“You’re going to roam around the country until you find a job?” Scylla rolled her eyes, “That plan is terrible.”

“It’s all I got. Hate to tell you this, love, but there aren’t many options for people like me.”

For women.

For women doctors.

For women doctors who preferred the fairer sex.

“I might know someone.”

Raelle raised an eyebrow, “And, why would you help me?”

“Maybe I think you’re worth the risk.”

“Out of all the people on this ship, you choose me? You don’t even know me.”

“Wants to heal people, takes long walks, and has an adorable little drawl. What’s left to know?”

Raelle’s brows rose as she glanced away, the faint hint of a blush forming on her cold cheeks. As she glanced back, Scylla was right there, no space between them. Raelle’s breath caught in her throat, and an outright footstomping party erupted in her belly. 

Scylla smiled at her before quickly closing the gap, pecking her lips in a short kiss. It was meant to be quick. Brief. A burst of need to draw the other woman in. Test the waters. See if she hooked her latest mark. 

Just like it always was.

She didn’t expect to feel something the moment their lips met.

Didn’t expect her heart to start pounding or her entire body to tingle.

She pulled away slowly, staring into now hooded blue orbs. 

Scylla, for the first time, felt something.

Raelle?

Raelle felt the world shift.

It was as if she had been sleepwalking through life, and now, finally, she had woken up.

Never looking away from blue so deep it reminded her of the ocean underneath her feet, Raelle lifted her hands, cupping an elegant jaw and leaning in. 

Their next kiss made the world slow down to a crawl.

Raelle leaned in harder, urging Scylla closer. She wordlessly asked for permission, and, when Scylla let out a tiny gasp, she darted in to taste the faint hints of wine and fruit leftover from dinner. Scylla kissed her back, clutching at her shoulders as their bodies melded together. Eager fingers dug into Raelle’s coat, and teeth gave a tiny bite to her bottom lip.

Raelle felt an electric shock shoot through her, mind blank and pure instinct taking over.

She pushed into Scylla, lowering her until her back was against the bottom of the bench, knees bending to cradle Raelle’s hips as she knelt over her. Deft fingers slipped between their bodies, running up a smooth leg and under the dress she was wearing. Breaking away from hungry lips, Raelle’s mouth hovered over Scylla’s, breathing in each gasp. She watched as eyelashes fluttered and sensed pale hands shake at her sides. Tracing the inside of a creamy thigh, Raelle’s words floated between them, “Yes?”

Scylla gulped, offering a short nod.

“Scylla?”

“Y-Yes.”

Raelle’s hand tickled upward as she pressed her forehead to Scylla’s, messily kissing her cheek and temple before letting her mouth linger close to parted lips. Their breaths shuddered together, bodies hot beneath the layers of clothes.

As Raelle traced the jut of her hip, fingers splaying out across her waist, the entire bench began to shake. 

No, the entire ship shook.

It was like the boat was sailing over a floor of marbles, bumping along for what felt like a good minute or two but was most likely only a few seconds. Realle reached for the back of the bench with her free hand, while Scylla grabbed on to her sides, holding them both steady.

Once the shaking stopped, they didn’t move, each breathing in the crisp air and wondering what was going on.

Squinting in thought, Raelle looked down at the brunette. Scylla looked back at her, concern and confusion clouding her gaze.

Stumbling to her feet, Raelle looked around. She peered back to see Scylla sit up, brushing her dress back into place. A hand reached out to Scylla, helping her stand up, “Are you alright?”

Scylla nodded, “Yes.” She blinked, “What was that?”

“I don’t know.” Raelle peered into the darkness, but she could barely see anything past what the nearby lamplights illuminated.

Scylla squeezed her hand, gaining her attention, “It’s late.”

It was. “Yes.”

Scylla rubbed the pad of her thumb over the back of Raelle’s palm, “Another night then?”

Raelle sighed, “Another night.”

Scylla smirked, “I’ll hold you to that, Raelle.”

“I hope you do.”

Scylla stepped back, breaking the link. As she turned to walk away, Raelle spoke up, “Where can I find you? On another night?”

Scylla laughed, “I know it’s called the Titanic, Raelle, but the ship’s not that big.”

Raelle huffed, a smile tugging at her lips, as she watched her waltz away into the night.

Another night, indeed.


	4. Graduation (Canon Divergence)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graduation day.
> 
> The day the Bellweather Unit would advance to War College.
> 
> Together.
> 
> As a Unit.
> 
> As a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during Season 1 Episode 10. Helps a lot if you've seen that episode.

Excitement and anticipation were palpable across the campus of Fort Salem. Raelle could feel it, and a smile tugged at her lips. She chuckled to herself as Tally jostled her friends and Abigail quietly preened, having waited for this moment since they stepped off the bus the first day of Basic.

Graduation day.

The day the Bellweather Unit would advance to War College.

Together.

As a Unit.

As a family.

Raelle fiddled with the medal in her hand, the sun glinting off the etched bird and warming her palm. She never imagined being here. Not like this. Not with her best friends, two people she never thought would become her family but were now her sisters. When she arrived at the Fort, she thought she would stumble her way through training until they shipped her off for a quick end to her misery.

But, here she was, her dad in the stands, proudly watching, as she prepared to see the words _War College_ appear.

She actually was excited to see those words.

A twinge in her gut made her smile flicker.

It didn’t exactly turn out how she thought it would.

How she had found herself hoping for it to be.

Yes, the sun was shining. Her friends were at her side. 

Yet.

She once thought another witch would be up in the stands next to her dad, cheering her on. Sharing in the thrill and holding her hand as they headed to one of the many parties that would pop up around Base. Who would nuzzle the crook of her neck and tease her with gentle kisses before dragging her away to their own private celebration. Who would get breakfast with her and her dad the next morning. Who would be by her side as she worked toward a position with one of the deployed Fixer units.

Who would tell her she loved her and actually mean it.

Who hadn't lied to her.

Hadn’t broken her heart.

A silent sigh.

She shook those thoughts away.

Life wasn’t perfect.

Far from it.

It was messy and painful and full of spiteful deceit.

Spree agents, greedy power hungry generals, and people who were meant to be leaders gladly sacrificing young strong witches well before their time.

Life was dark.

But, she could have this moment. 

In all the confusion and chaos and pain of the past few weeks, she could have this one tiny reprieve. A shelter in the middle of the storm. A lighthouse in the eye of a hurricane.

As the countdown began and everyone started stomping their boots, Raelle flipped her medal over.

And felt the air leave her lungs.

She didn’t hear the loud cheers around her.

Didn’t feel the nudges from friends and the unknowing words of congratulations for something that wasn’t true.

She didn’t see Anacostia frown from her spot amongst the officers, confused why her soldier wasn’t joining in the glee.

Didn’t see the worry crease her father’s face.

Didn’t feel Tally and Abigail halt from pulling her into a group hug, Glory a half second behind, because they finally noticed she wasn’t moving.

Wasn’t breathing.

Was only staring blankly at the back of her medal.

“Rae?” Abigail asked quietly, Tally resting a hand on her arm, “What is it?”

Raelle’s hand began to shake.

It wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be real.

In the distance, Anacostia began to make her way forward, sharing a look with Izadora. Bellweather Unit made it to War College. They were top of their class. Some of the highest scores in their respective future specializations as well as when tested as a Unit. Craven and Bellweather were jubilant. 

Why wasn’t Collar?

Tally’s gasp brushed against Raelle’s ear, but she didn’t flinch, didn’t even hear it.

“What?” Abigail hovered over her shoulder, “Shit.”

Raelle couldn’t look away from the words. Two short strings of letters carved into the metal. 

She couldn’t move.

Her hand was frozen, eyes not believing what they read.

But, deep down, she knew it was true.

She felt absolute dread.

And a terrible, awful, sense of foreboding acceptance.

“Collar,” Anacostia’s voice boomed. She pushed her way forward, stern face flickering with concern, “War College not to your liking?”

Raelle didn’t respond. 

“Sergeant.” Tally murmured.

Tilting her head, Anacostia read what had appeared on the future Fixer’s medal.

She blinked. 

Read it again.

“That’s not right.” she whispered to herself.

Raelle didn’t know if she was laughing or crying. Her eyes stung and her body trembled. 

This was what she got for trying.

For caring.

For falling in love and letting it rip her heart into shreds.

For trying to do something right.

For trusting anyone.

Believing in anyone.

She was so stupid.

Her hand finally curled around the medal. With a rage that she didn’t notice had bubbled up until she saw pure red, she tore it away, the chain flinging over her head. The metal cut into her fist.

“This is...this is what I get for…” her voice broke. Shaking her head, she began to march away.

“Raelle!” Tally called after her. 

Stopping, Raelle spun on her heels. She stomped back up to Anacostia, legs clumsy with emotion. She violently shoved the medal into her now former drill instructor’s chest, “This is what I came here for? What you trained me to do?” Her voice quaked, “I’m not doing this. Find someone else to be your hunter.”

Then, she was gone, pushing through the celebrations and cheers.

Anacostia looked down at the medal in her grasp.

* * *

As Scylla’s footsteps faded away, Anacostia’s eyes popped open. She pushed herself to her feet, brushing the dirt and bits of food off her uniform. With quick quiet steps, she made her way down the corridor, sticking to the shadows and listening as the young witch cautiously made her way out of the basement and into the sunlight. To freedom. 

She paused, giving Scylla a few minutes to disappear.

For the coast to clear.

Then, she carefully made her way out of the building. 

Squinting, she caught sight of Izadora huddled near a tree, view lines perfect for watching the door and following whoever entered or exited. A few brisk steps had her next to her friend, “Bus stop?”

“Looks like it.” Izadora nodded.

“Next bus out?”

“No,” another voice joined in.

Anacostia peered over at Raelle, her eyes red but dress uniform still pristine.

“Too obvious. She’ll wait.” Raelle continued. 

Anacostia nodded, “I’ll follow.”

Raelle shrugged, “Guess I’ll see you soon, then.” Her face projected stoic indifference, but the quivering of her chin and the sheen in her eyes suggested otherwise.

“You’ll both do the right thing.” Anacostia assured the young soldier. For a brief second she questioned if this was the best course of action. If letting Raelle know what she’d decided to do with Scylla was smart, was something the newly minted soldier could handle.

Her momentary questioning was swiftly answered.

It was.

Scylla Ramshorn could be an asset. Could help them against the Spree.

And, she’d be Collar’s problem soon enough.

“No idea what that is.” Raelle began to leave, “I have to report to my new CO.”

Anacostia and Izadora watched her go.

“This isn’t fair for her. For either of them” Izadora pointed out.

“Sarah wants to punish her. Both of them. She thinks this is the way to do so. A way to determine Collar’s loyalty. Show her what happens if she steps out of line again.” Anacostia breathed out, “Be prepared for Collar to get herself in trouble. She still loves her.” 

The two young women still loved each other.

It could lead to a breakthrough, finally, in the war with the Spree.

Or, it could lead to the two witches’ downfall.

She shook her head, memory flashing back to the image of Raelle’s medal. Back to the two words she never expected to see neatly stencield in on the medal of who could have been their best field medic from that year’s class. The best in a generation.

She bit back a shudder at what this meant for Raelle Collar and Scylla Ramshorn.

A soldier and a dodger turned Spree agent.

The two words echoed silently in the warm summer air. 

_Military Police_


	5. One Last Dance (Enemies to Lovers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She really was back at Fort Salem, not in uniform but blending in with the crowd of soldiers and their guests like a phantom in a civilian dress the likes of which she hadn’t worn since before taking the oath, and, even then, was worn only on one or two occasions. 
> 
> Feeling the tips of her fingers start to grow numb, she watched the soldiers, clothed in their dress uniforms and casually chatting as they approached the entrance, all laughter and bright eyes and smirks, easily walk into the ball.
> 
> Fort Salem’s Annual Military Ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 is Lovers to Enemies. Not sure I hit the prompt, but this is what I have to offer.

Scylla exhaled silently, the puff of air turning to crystals in a long steady stream of white. It was a cold night, snow coming early that year and not letting up. The grounds of Fort Salem sparkled with shades of white and blue, hints of dark evergreen peeking out like playful reminders of what lay dormant beneath, waiting to reappear once again when the solstice drew away and the majesty of spring and her deliciously incandescent sister summer fell upon them.

Taking another breath, she held in the slight shiver her body threatened to succumb to. The coldness seeped in through the thin fabric of her dress, causing goosebumps to race up her bare arms and red to paint the tip of her nose. Yet, she welcomed it. Welcomed the way the crisp air cleared her head. The way it burned her lungs and made her eyes slightly frosty. The way it made her _feel_. A reminder this was real and not some weird dream she could get lost in.

She really was back at Fort Salem, not in uniform but blending in with the crowd of soldiers and their guests like a phantom in a civilian dress the likes of which she hadn’t worn since before taking the oath, and, even then, was worn only on one or two occasions. 

Feeling the tips of her fingers start to grow numb, she watched the soldiers, clothed in their dress uniforms and casually chatting as they approached the entrance, all laughter and bright eyes and smirks, easily walk into the ball.

Fort Salem’s Annual Military Ball.

The one night where the cadets and their counterparts dressed up and stood around with their fellow soldiers pretending for a night they weren’t in War College to learn how to potentially extend their lives for an extra few years as they served along the front lines or were, if lucky, offered a post in a cushy office.

The one night they could act like young women attending a dance where their only concern was how many dances they could fit in between sips of punch and exchanges of gossip.

Her orders had been clear. She was there as part of the Spree. While the Spree and Army were still finalizing a possible cease fire and alliance to combat the Camarilla, she was here to observe. Listen. Take measure of the atmosphere around those who would be serving on the front lines. See if the Spree had allies in the grunts. If their message was felt by those destined to fight.

And to be a messenger.

To meet with Anacostia.

Scylla had no idea why the Spree...why Willa Collar...and wasn’t that messed up...would agree to send her when anyone else could be sent. Why Anacostia would set up their meeting on Base during one of the most well known events of the year. Her. The one who actually attended alongside many of these soldiers during her two years before she ran and found the safe house. Many who would recognize her. 

Who could have her sent to General Alder.

And, without a firm Accord, Scylla had no idea how that would pan out.

This was a bad idea.

Really bad.

Yet, deep down, she knew why it was her. 

Everyone knew why.

Her cold fingers itched to find her lighter and change her appearance. Become someone, anyone, that they wouldn’t recognize. Another civilian guest who arrived on some soldier’s arm and was simply exploring while her escort was off getting her a drink or taking in some air outside with friends. Maybe a first year ambling about with wide eyes. Even one of the boys bussed up to provide companionship and charged dalliances.

All while she spied on War College students who were too busy sneaking off to have sex in the coat closet to talk about their feelings on the Army’s response to the Camarilla and meeting with her...liaison...handler...only link back to this life?

This made no sense whatsoever.

Yet, here she was. 

Anacostia better be inside because she seemed sure as hell not willing to come out and meet with her like they had planned.

Guess she had to go find her herself.

The urge to turn and leave entered her mind.

If Anacostia was going to play some game, Scylla was not participating.

It could very well be a trap.

But, Anacostia didn’t play games. Not like this. And, if she wanted to catch Scylla, she never would have let her go in the first place.

Damn it.

Taking one final breath, she pasted a small friendly smile on her face and strolled up to the entrance. A lieutenant, probably some unlucky blaster who produced the wrong tornado and was delegated to door duty as punishment for destroying half the practice fields, eyed her with a frown. Scylla made sure to flash her the small smile, not too big but not dour. Unremarkable. Forgettable. 

“Wait.” the guard held up a hand as Scylla made to pass by, “No civilians without an escort and no non War College cadets.” 

Did she look like a first year recruit fresh off the bus and eager to die for her country?

“Oh,” Scylla didn’t flinch, “my date is here. I was just catching my breath. All that dancing made me a little warm.”

“I haven’t seen you before, and I’ve been here all night.”

“Of course you have. I was here earlier. There have been a lot of people coming and going.”

“No, I don’t recognize you.” The guard didn’t budge, “What’s your escort’s name?”

Of course the problem was that she _wasn’t_ recognized, “What are you implying? That I’m trying to...sneak in to a military dance?” Because she was. But, this soldier didn't know that. 

Not even a twitch. 

“This is ridiculous.” And she couldn’t use a simple charm to get by, because it was likely this soldier would recognize it or someone else nearby would. “I told you. She’s here.”

“Where? What is her name?”

Ready to toss out the name of the girl who used to be her neighbor when she lived in the barracks, and hope she wasn’t actually there with someone, Scylla opened her mouth. Before a sound could come out, a warm hand, a hand she would have recognized in an instant if she allowed herself to, lightly touched the spot right between her shoulder blades, slipping down the length of her spine to rest tenderly yet possessively against the small of her back, “Her name is Collar, and she wants to know why you’re making her girlfriend stand outside in the cold.”

_Girlfriend._

Scylla choked back a gasp, using every ounce of willpower to not stiffen in surprise at the protective touch and stern voice that still haunted her dreams at night. 

Goddess, that voice.

It used to be full of cute charm and passionate pleas.

The last time she heard it, broken and full of so much pain, that voice delivered every single nightmarish thought she’d ever dreamt, that ever plagued her mind. 

The voice that shattered her heart.

The voice that could tear her down and build her up with one word.

The voice she had to pretend wasn’t the best and worst thing to hear at that exact moment.

Scylla quickly fixed her wobbly smile and trained her eyes on the older girl, refusing to look at her savior because the sight of those blue eyes and that haunting face would buckle her knees and blow her cover completely. 

The guard looked back and forth for a moment, studying them. When Raelle shifted closer to Scylla, her side pressing warmly against the brunette’s, she nodded and waved them in, “Have fun. Try to not let her roam around.”

“Thank you ever so much.” Scylla cheerfully shot out as they walked by, reverting to sarcasm to hide the turmoil inside. “You’ve been most helpful.” 

Her smile immediately fell as she stepped into the heated entryway. She didn’t even notice the relief it brought to her icy skin. All she could focus on was her _girlfriend_.

Just hearing that made her throat constrict and her eyes burn.

Because it wasn’t true.

And yet.

Raelle was still at her side.

Raelle was still touching her back.

Raelle was there.

Raelle.

Chin quivering slightly, Scylla cleared her throat, “What are you doing?”

“Sneaking a Spree agent into the army’s military ball. What’s it look like I’m doing?”

The straightforward dry delivery with a hint of anger had Scylla blinking and pursing her lips, “Anacostia sent you.”

A slight pause.

“Does it matter?” her palm flattened, “It’s freezing outside. Why aren’t you wearing a coat?”

“I wasn’t exactly planning on arguing with the door girl.”

“You never plan for a lot of things, do you?”

Her lips were a thin line, “I didn’t plan for you.”

Not now.

Not before.

She never planned on her assignment being the love of her life. 

Raelle’s steps stuttered half a beat before regaining their normal cadence, “Come here.” She directed her over to a small alcove before the large gathering area opened up to the ballroom. Shuffling into the shadows, Scylla finally let herself look at the blonde.

The only person who ever held her heart.

The woman she hadn’t seen since before her escape from Fort Salem.

She’d heard the rumors. The stories. The random bits of Intelligence and status reports Willa craved. They both craved. How Raelle died. How she came back. How she was in War College with her former Unit. How Col. Wick had taken a liking to her and was guiding her through Fixer courses with an eye on her future as a medic.

Scylla refused to ever think about the days after she’d stumbled upon the news that Raelle had been deployed directly after graduation. That she was left for dead in China.

She didn’t even remember the hours after the news filtered into her ears and was processed by her brain.

She just knew it was the darkest she had ever felt.

Hands at her sides, subtly hiding the shakiness from view, Scylla took in the soldier. 

The dress uniform was pristine. Perfectly creased and shined. The buttons gleamed like brass beacons in the fluorescent light. The blue wool fit perfectly along hardened curves. The sash lay flawlessly across her chest, the markings on her sleeves and shoulders denoting her slight rise in rank after her acceptance to War College and a successful mission. The scourge at her waist was evenly coiled and oiled. 

Scylla did not know if she’d ever seen Raelle look so pressed and polished, not even at the Bellweather wedding.

Goddess, she looked good. 

Like a dashing dapper hero found in fairytales and propaganda videos.

Hair in familiar braids, eyes like the sky, all heart and promises of once longed for freedom in their depths, pale pink lips, and a strong jaw. 

Scylla’s heart skipped a beat.

The dodger’s brows furrowed, though, as Raelle reached for the buttons on her collar.

“Raelle?”

Raelle flicked the buttons loose, immediately reaching for the ones adorning her chest, “You’re shaking, Scylla.”

Because she was standing in front of her ex-girlfriend, the same girl who was dressed like all the other soldiers who were technically her enemy, “I’m fine.”

In the lion’s den and at the mercy of a cub. 

A cub who had the power to lead the pack, if she ever chose to believe in herself the way Scylla did.

“No, you’re not.” she quickly unbuttoned her coat and shrugged out of it, revealing the dark black undershirt molded to a lithe torso and subtly powerful shoulders. She looped the coat around Scylla’s back with little fanfare, “You’ll get sick. Hypothermia doesn’t take long. Fifteen...twenty minutes. You need to warm up.”

Once a fixer, always a fixer.

“I can think of better ways to do that.” slipped out before she could stop herself, too caught up in being so close to the familiar body. The hint of her cologne, woodsy and snapping with the faintest trace of salva and bitter wind, tickled her senses. She fought the urge to bury her nose in it, revel in the new yet still familiar scent that made her think of whispered conversations on long moonlit walks and a brief time she thought she knew what home could really truly be like. 

Goddess, but she wanted to know why she now smelled, looked, held herself more like a soldier than ever before. If she really had become one of Alder’s little tin toys ready to topple over in the name of protecting those who could protect themselves and an archaic form of slavery that held the few above the many. 

Or, if she was falling in line with those willing to die to live, if only the military would see reason and accept that witches were being hunted and persecuted. 

She wanted to know what Raelle was thinking. Feeling. What plagued her mind since they last saw each other.

She wanted to know what it was like to have the sleeves dangling at her sides filled with affectionate arms that used to twirl her around and hug her close.

She wanted to forget she was there as a spy.

Talk with Raelle like they used to. Like they did before everything exploded in a storm of pain and lies and chosen sides. 

But, she couldn’t.

Because she was there as a spy.

As Spree.

And Raelle was not on her side.

Raelle’s eyebrow ticked up at the innuendo that echoed in their little corner. 

Feeling the heavy fabric settle across her shoulders, Scylla tangled her fingers together, a nervous habit Raelle picked up on immediately, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

A sigh, “Why are you here?”

“Annual Military Ball. Everyone’s here. It’s required.”

And Raelle went to everything required now? Followed orders without question? “Why are you here with me?” Why had she helped her? Where was Anacostia? Was Raelle part of a plan Scylla knew nothing about?

Did Scylla need to run before the military police arrived?

Run like her parents couldn’t in the end?

Was the blind trust she still felt for this woman, even logically knowing she shouldn’t because the last time they talked there were tears and accusations and so much pain it was a wonder either of them were standing there at all, going to be here downfall?

Was Raelle always meant to be her downfall? Was she meant to be Raelle’s?

Raelle hesitated before ever so lightly touching her shoulders. Her hands dipped down then back up, methodically rubbing and warming up the skin underneath her touch. “She was preparing to call the MPs. Your ability to fool everyone must only apply to me.”

“Raelle,”

“I don’t know why you’re here. Hell, I probably should have let them drag you off to…” she trailed off, shaking her head at her own thoughts. She scoffed at herself, “What are you here for, to find another poor naive soul to trick and give to the Spree?” Her words had fire, but it was forced.

“No.” her eyes bore into Raelle’s, urging her to understand, to believe, “It’s not like that.” Cautiously, she slowly caught the blonde’s left hand as it fell to the crook of her elbow. She watched the way Raelle’s jaw locked, her gaze swirled with barely concealed emotion, “I’m not here for anyone.” Goddess, this was the wrong place...the wrong time...but it was what she had, and if Anacostia wasn’t around, and she had no reason to be there other than to pass on or receive information that meant nothing in the face of her dreamt of future, she was going to say it. “It was not like that with you. I told you I love you, and I meant it. I still do.”

Raelle shook her head.

“Raelle, please.”

Eyes dropped to the floor, “Stop, Scylla.”

The pit of her stomach dropped as a thought entered her mind.

“Are you here with someone else?”

She couldn’t be mad, if she was. How could she? But, the thought of someone else sharing her bed, seeing her as she slowly woke in the morning, sleepy and cute, made her skin itch and her chest tighten. Someone else in those arms. Holding her close. Hearing about her day.

It twisted inside her like a dull knife.

“I haven’t fallen for any more Spree lies lately.”

The knot in her chest disappeared, only to form in the back of her throat, “Raelle.”

“You want to hear that you broke me, Scyl? That I’m no good for anyone else because I was stupid enough to give my heart to someone who never wanted it?”

“I always wanted you.”

Raelle’s eyes stayed glued to the floor. A pair of witches walked by, talking and giggling loudly. Raelle leaned to the side, shoulder partially blocking Scylla from view, “You can’t be here. Someone will see you.”

“No, they won’t. I’ll be fine.” 

“Of course you’re fine. You always are.”

“Raelle,” she took a half step closer, a sliver of air the only thing separating them now, “tell me what you want. What do you want from me? I’ll give it. Do you want me to leave? To turn myself in? To tell you I don’t want you, even though it’s a lie? To tell you I love you, because I do? You have _no idea_ what I would do for you. How...not fine I’ve been.” A scoff, “You’re standing here looking like Alder’s perfect poster child, and you say I’m fine? Like we both don’t see those chains on your wrist? Do you want me to have those chains, too?”

“We’re not doing this now.”

“Why not? When can we? When will I ever get to see you again?”

“You’re Spree.”

“You know it’s so much more complicated than that. You’ve always known.”

“All I know is that it still hurts, Scyl. It hurts.”

“I love you. I’m not afraid to say it. I’m not afraid of it.”

“Maybe you should be.”

Before Scylla could respond, a “Hey, Collar!” was shouted. She looked over to see a gaggle of soldiers meander over, already punch drunk on music and a following morning free of training. 

“Jackson.” Raelle nodded, sniffing and blinking her eyes clear.

“Who’s this?” the leader of the group asked, nodding at Scylla.

“Scylla.” the brunette jumped in, holding a hand out, voice thankfully steady.

“Nice to meet you, Scylla.” she pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Name is Diane Jackson. Third year blaster.”

Scylla felt Raelle shift on her feet next to her.

Pulling her hand back, Scylla let it settle on Raelle’s hip, “Pleasure.”

“I’m sure it is.” her eyes flickered between the former necro and her fellow soldier.

At the intimate position the former lovers were entangled in.

Feeling how tense Raelle was, Scylla squeezed her hand. Raelle nimbly took a half step, putting herself between the two.

“Haven’t seen you around before, Scylla.” Jackson stared openly over Raelle’s shoulder at the dress underneath the uniform coat, “Collar going back to her roots with a civilian? Is that a family thing?”

Raelle bristled at the undercurrent of superiority that dripped off the word _civilian_. At the judgment in black eyes around the concept of a witch and non-witch being together.

The same judgment she grew up with every day of her life.

That Scylla knew she still dealt with, clearly even now. 

“And with all the _worthwhile_ _choices_ here.” Scylla’s eyes glinted sarcastically.

Eyes narrowed.

“What do you want, Jackson?” Raelle grit out.

Black landed back on her, “Saw you and wanted to say hi. No Bellweather? Or the other one?” 

Scylla’s hand on her waist barely held her back. “What’s your problem, Jackson? I’ll help you sort it out.”

“Help me?” Jackson sneered, “Just like a Cession, ready to jump in where they’re not wanted with no tact or class.” She waived her hand blithely before turning toward the ballroom, “Your uniform isn’t regulation, Collar. Might want to fix that before an officer sees you.” 

Scylla’s grip held firm as they watched the other soldiers walk away.

What the hell was that?

Raelle relaxed only a fraction once they were out of sight.

“I see the fun only continued after I left.” Scylla spoke up.

“Yeah, birthday parties galore.” Raelle moved away from her. She inhaled deeply, hand automatically fiddling with the ringer on her pointer finger, “Jackson is like if a Swythe and Bellweather had a baby but hated her parents.”

“A lot of fun, then. And you’re the babysitter?”

“Something like that.” her hands fell to her sides, “What’s going on, Scyl?”

Scylla bit her lip, they were back to that. Back to... _them._ “I was supposed to meet Anacostia.”

Raelle stared at her.

It clicked. 

“You didn’t know.”

“There’s a lot of things I don’t know.” Raelle rolled her eyes.

How could Anacostia have not told her? Didn’t Anacostia send Raelle to...oh.

Raelle didn’t know she was going to be there. 

“Rae,”

Raelle interrupted her, “We can’t stay here all night. It will look suspicious.”

“You and your date hiding in the dark together?” Scylla smirked gently. “Sounds normal to me.”

Raelle shot her a look.

Shrugging out of her coat, Scylla handed it over, “Thanks.”

Raelle nodded, flicking it on and straightening the coat so it sat as it should. She quickly began to button up the brass buttons, her fingers fumbling as they got to the one on her collar.

Watching her struggle, Scylla reached out without thinking.

Both stilled as her fingers landed near Raelle’s throat, the backs of her knuckles brushing against the delicate skin. Calming her trembling hands, Scylla carefully pushed the button through the hole, flattening the collar and smoothing away any invisible wrinkles along her collarbones and shoulders. Her palms came to rest near the crook of her neck, fingers fixing a tiny part where the collar had dipped before curling into the wool.

Raelle stared at her. 

Scylla couldn’t move away. Couldn’t let go.

Wouldn’t let go.

“We should go.” Raelle whispered.

Neither moved.

Eyes troubled, Raelle seemed to be having an argument with herself. One Scylla watched flash across her face, in the dip of her chin, the flicker of her mouth.

Scylla held her breath.

Unblinking, Raelle reached for Scylla’s hand, left taking right and cradling it close.

Not wanting to break the quiet stillness that enveloped them, unable to speak, Scylla’s brows drew together, mouth twitching with confusion and hope.

“Can we dance? One song?” Raelle asked, voice so soft Scylla almost didn’t hear her. “Let me have one more song.”

This was a bad idea.

It would only hurt them both in the end.

It felt like a goodbye.

A goodbye Scylla never wanted to say.

A goodbye they might have already said back in that basement.

A goodbye they said at the Bellweather wedding.

_Actually, can we dance for a minute?_

Scylla bit back a sob and nodded, “Yes. Of course.”

There, in the alcove, hidden away from prying eyes and suspicious glares, the two swayed to the music drifting in from the ballroom. 

For one moment, they could pretend everything was ok.

They weren’t torn apart.

On separate ends of the same side, two halves of a broken whole.

They were just Scylla and Raelle. Two women slow dancing and holding each other close.

Scylla hesitantly nuzzled the side of Raelle’s neck.

She boldly, lovingly, helplessly, brushed a tender kiss there.

The blonde leaned in, tucking her nose into the crook of her neck, letting dark tresses and safety hide her face from view.

If Scylla concentrated, it almost felt like a drop of water landed on her skin. She could almost feel a jagged sad smile against her pulse point.

A throat cleared behind them, “Cpl. Collar, this is not Beltane. All soldiers and their dates are to be in the Ballroom.”

Scylla hated Anacostia.

Opening her eyes, Scylla watched Raelle pull back, a mask falling over her features. The blonde stared at her former drill sergeant, “I didn’t know my _date_ was going to show up tonight.”

Anacostia tilted her head, “Ballroom, Collar.”

“I’m good here.”

Scylla touched her forearm, “It’s ok. I need to talk with Anacostia.” 

Raelle looked at her.

Then, she chuckled bitterly, “Right. Of course.” She stepped around Scylla, glaring at Anacostia, “We all like our secrets, don’t we.”

Scylla locked her jaw as she felt Raelle storm away.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Anacostia admonished.

“You shouldn’t have kept me waiting,” Scylla spun around. “She doesn’t know.”

“That you aren’t currently enemies? Classified information.”

“You and Willa kept me away from her. I’m not doing that anymore. I’m not going to lie to her anymore.” 

“What will you tell her? You’re still Spree. She's in the Army. We don’t have an Accord, yet.”

Scylla lifted her chin, eyes like stones. 

“Let her be, Scylla. She’ll be back soon enough.”

“What do you mean?”

A ghost of a smile, “Who do you think will be assigned to work with the Spree? Someone with combat experience and her own power...her own strengths? Or someone who barely knows how to hold a scourge?”

“No,” Scylla shook her head, “She’s in War College. Not combat infantry. Not Intelligence.”

Not deployed.

“Scylla,” a sigh, “she was always going to be combat infantry. The only difference is, this time she’ll be working with you.”

Whatever calm facade Scylla held fell with a crash.

“Let’s talk.” Anacostia gestured to a nearby room.

Scylla followed her, mind whirling.

_“Scylla,” a sigh, “she was always going to be combat infantry. The only difference is, this time she’ll be working with you.”_


	6. Gold (Soulmate AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, what caught her by surprise was the color.
> 
> Everyone knew soulmates existed. You didn’t always meet the one meant for you, but they were supposedly out there.
> 
> Her parents had been soulmates.
> 
> Her mom was the one to tell her.
> 
> If your mark turns to pure gold, shines like the brightest yellow sun on a warm summer day, hold on to that person, because they are the one meant for you.
> 
> Her mark was pure gold.

Scylla forced herself not to flinch as the heavy door to the dungeon slammed shut, the guard finally leaving her alone. She inhaled deeply, defiant face slipping away to reveal terrified eyes and a trembling mouth. Her breath came in sharp, fighting to keep the sobs at bay. The chains dug into her delicate wrists and ankles, the invisible chains that held her kind down manifesting into reality.

At least the ear splitting mind numbing seeds had stopped.

She blinked, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Wetness coated her eyelashes, but she refused to let them fall.

She had to stay strong.

She could stay strong.

They would not break her.

Biting her lip, she squeezed her eyes shut. With as much dexterity as she could muster, she tugged at the chains, causing them to creak and cut into her flesh. Her shoulders ached at the move, but she ignored it. Her finger haphazardly shot out, messily rubbing against her palm.

Desperate to draw an S.

Desperate to get a message out.

Desperate to let Raelle know she was ok.

Who knows what they told her. 

The army would have had to explain her disappearance. Explain why she was gone. Raelle...goddess….Raelle, stubborn and insistent and brave...she wouldn’t accept one of the military’s stories. She wouldn’t let them lie to her face and then stand down like a good little soldier. Not after what happened with her mom.

Not when it came to her soulmate.

_Scylla watched the blonde slip on her t-shirt, not caring about the wrinkles and creases that would surely get her demerits if her sergeant conducted inspection right that very moment._

_Of course, her uniform was probably the least of her worries if a sergeant saw them right then._

_Stretching her arms above her head, Scylla took a moment to revel in the wonderful soreness pulling at her muscles. The sheets casually draped over her slid down, exposing her bare chest to the morning air._

_Raelle paused, blue eyes flickering over her body before ticking up to her face._

_Catching her look, Scylla shifted, the sheet falling even further down, the teasing hint of her belly and hip wordlessly coaxing her back in for one more kiss, one more caress, one more minute._

_When Raelle finally left, jacket half on and sprinting out the door like she was trying to beat the obstacle course, Scylla allowed herself to stand and move over to her dresser. Her hair was a tangled tousled mess, and she ran her hands through it, following the same path her lover’s had taken just minutes earlier._

_Moving to pile the strands on top of her head in a quick bun, her eyes caught the edge of her witch’s mark...the mark every witch had. A mark that was strangely tingling, like a phantom grasp lingering before slowly moving away. Angling her head to get a better look at the shine on the nape of her neck, her hands froze._

_It was shiny._

_No surprise there._

_Having sex would do that._

_And there was no doubt what her and Raelle had spent all night and that morning doing._

_No, what caught her by surprise was the color._

_Everyone knew soulmates existed. You didn’t always meet the one meant for you, but they were supposedly out there._

_Her parents had been soulmates._

_Her mom was the one to tell her._

_If your mark turns to pure gold, shines like the brightest yellow sun on a warm summer day, hold on to that person, because they are the one meant for you._

_Her mark was pure gold._

Her finger scratched helplessly at her palm. She needed Raelle to not worry.

If Raelle thought she was hurt or worse...no. Scylla couldn’t think like that. Couldn’t think about the devastation a soulmate would experience believing their mate was gone forever.

What lengths she would go to deal with her grief, if she even dealt with it at all.

And, if Raelle didn’t think she was dead, would she think she left her? Ran away? 

No, Raelle wouldn't believe that. Scylla loved her. She told her so. She...she could never leave Raelle. She told Raelle if she wanted to run, she would take her with her. 

She would take her with her.

Her chin quivered as the image of her girlfriend, her soulmate, appeared in her mind. Warm affectionate blue eyes, Cession braids, a pale scar, and hands that could roughly and confidently take control but also gently cradle and make silent promises.

The skin at the back of her neck began to tingle.

A phantom touch against her witch’s mark.

Her head snapped up.

Her entire body began to shake.

No.

It couldn’t be.

They wouldn’t.

The door swung open.

Scylla felt every single nerve in her body freeze as a limp body was carried into the cell and unceremoniously deposited on the cold hard ground.

Raelle.

Scylla stared at her, not noticing as Anacostia watched from the shadows, face stoic but a twinge of almost regret in her eyes. 

“Raelle?” Scylla breathed out. She leant as far forward as she could, the chains holding her back. “Raelle.”

She was there. 

She was ok.

She had to be ok.

Goddess.

“Raelle,” the other girl was dressed like she was in bed, like she would be when they would curl up together after a long day of training and studying, too tired to do more than lay in each other’s arms and whisper about everything and nothing.

Was it nighttime? Had Raelle been asleep? How long had it been since Scylla laid eyes on her? Since she touched her? Kissed her? Told her she loved her?

Raelle began to twitch.

Scylla felt her throat close, knotted with emotion, “Raelle. Baby.” She forced her voice to remain calm, quiet. Not wanting to startle her, scare her, worry her.

Not wanting her to know something was wrong.

To feel the fear and despair hanging in the air.

To be hurt because of her.

Blue eyes slowly appeared.

Scylla could have cried with happiness at the sight.

Her eyes were so beautiful.

Raelle slowly pushed herself up, disbelief clear on her face, rolling off her in waves along with hope and love and the need for this to be real as she spotted a dirty face and quietly calling body.

“This can’t be real. You’re dead.”

Scylla swallowed thickly, her voice shaking along with her chains, “It’s me, it’s really me.” She wanted to hold her, feel her, break down in her arms and never let go.

Raelle carefully crawled toward her, not trusting the vision before her.

Scylla silently urged her closer, barely holding on to any semblance of control.

When Raelle was close enough to truly see her, take her in, feel her presence, she nearly broke.

Raelle’s hand slowly lifted.

Her fingers went to the nape of Scylla’s neck covered by the silencer. 

The tips gingerly, gently, brushed against her mark through the webbing.

Feelings so powerful Scylla felt like the world exploded rushed through her. Hope. Love. Trust. Respect. Need. Want. Belief.

Love.

So much love.

“Oh my god...oh my god…” Raelle cried out, pressing into her. She kissed Scylla, sobbing as their lips touched, as her mouth finally connected with it’s partner’s. Her hand curved, holding tight, fingers pushing into the mark. 

Scylla kissed her back with everything inside of her. Gave all of herself to the blonde and was offered every part of Raelle in return. The floodgates opened, and every single emotion, every single part of her that felt something, her heart and soul combined, filtered through their connection. She felt every ounce of devotion in Raelle, every single part of her that was in love with Scylla and would do anything for her, would die for her, would never give up on her.

Raelle kept kissing her, only breaking away when she couldn’t hold back a crashing sob. Scylla reached for her, wanting to touch her, needing to hold her. 

Raelle ran her free hand over Scylla, searching for any pain, any injuries, “Did they hurt you? Did they hurt you?” Her worry, her fear, her protectiveness washed over Scylla like a tidal wave. 

Scylla could barely hear her over the pounding of their joined hearts and the dread growing in the pit of her stomach, “They’re going to tell you horrible things about me, all of them.” she worked to hold Raelle’s hand, calm her, soothe her, have her hear her, “Please, don’t believe everything they tell you.”

“Scyl, what?” Raelle caressed her mark, not understanding, “Why would they do this to you?” 

Scylla fought to comfort her, to make her feel how much she loved her. Had always loved her. How _real_ this was. How real _they were_. “They want something I can’t give them.”

“I don’t understand.” Raelle wept.

“This is all you need to know,” Scylla reached, desperate to hold Raelle’s hand to her mark but only able to touch her forearm, the chains holding her back, “I love you, Raelle, and I would never do anything to hurt you. Please...believe me.”

Raelle’s hand was warm against her mark. She could feel the touch throughout her body. In her mind. Strong and steady and loyal. Always loyal. Never ever wavering. Always willing to believe, to trust, to give Scylla what she needed to understand Raelle was her’s and Raelle was never going to leave her.

“I believe you.” Raelle nodded, kissing her again, “I believe you.” A shattered kiss, “I love you.”

Scylla kissed her back, feeling the strength of their connection envelope them, guard them from anything beyond the joining of their souls.

Neither noticed the door opening again.

The sounds of boots.

The folded arms of Anacostia as she allowed herself one single second to realize what she was doing, what she had done, before focusing back on the mission.

Arms harshly grabbed Raelle and violently ripped her away from Scylla.

“NO!’ Raelle shouted, instinctively fighting against the intruders.

Scylla’s eyes widened, ice filling her veins as her warmth, her home, her mate, her soul, was torn from her embrace. “NOOOO!”

Raelle struggled, bare feet trying to dig into the stone and shoulders jostling for leverage. 

Anacostia stepped up, touching Raelle’s head.

The soldier immediately went limp.

Scylla couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Her entire world was being taken from her.

Her soulmate was being taken from her.

Her body cried out, her mind, her heart...every single part of her wept, howled for her match. For the one meant for her.

She screamed.

Anacostia stepped behind her, grasping her shoulders and linking.

She watched as a slightly younger Scylla walked into Baylord Auto.

How she arrived at the Spree headquarters.

How she was handed a balloon, not fully understanding what was being asked of her but wanting to help, wanting to fight for the Cause.

How her nerves jumped at the sound of tortured wails.

How she was unsure about what she was about to do.

The vision shifted before Anacostia could snap out of it.

_Raelle held Scylla close, their foreheads touching, arms wrapped around each other like the sheets cocooning their entangled bodies. She gently kissed her, touch so soft it stung Scylla’s heart like a love tipped arrow._

_“We’re in this together, ok?” Raelle whispered. “Whatever this means. Take as long as you need. I’m all in, ok? Friend...lover...soulmate. Whatever you want to call me. I’ll be here. We can move at your pace.”_

_“What if I move slow?” Scylla murmured._

_“I’d stand still with you.” Raelle vowed. “I’m yours.”_

_“I don’t want to hurt you.” she was lying to Raelle about so much._

_About herself._

_About what she’d done._

_About the guilt and grief and anger and regret that lived inside her._

_For Raelle._

_For the mission the Spree sent her on before Fort Salem._

_For all the missions since._

_For wanting vengeance, justice, freedom, but not sure she knew what that was anymore._

_For thinking it might be found in the woman in her arms, but unable to accept that._

_“You won’t.”_

_Raelle didn’t know. She couldn’t._

_“Your pace, Scyl. Whatever happened before...I’m still here. I still want you. Mark or no mark. I want you.”_

_A tear slipped down Scylla’s cheek._

Anacostia broke the link, blinking rapidly as she tried to process what she’d just seen.

Scylla’s mournful wails echoed in the cavernous room as she slumped over.

Unconsciously, Anacostia glanced down. Hidden behind ruffled brunette locks and the silencer’s webbing, Scylla’s gold mark glittered in the unforgiving lamplight.

On autopilot, Anacostia stepped away and walked toward the door. She stopped for a moment. About to say something to Scylla.

_“I don’t want to hurt you.”_

_“Mark or no mark. I want you.”_

Shaking her head, she moved to the door and left.


	7. The Way Out (Free Choice)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days blended into each other. Time lost all sense. Hours were marked by fighting, by patrolling, by eating meals and tending to the wounded. 
> 
> By sleep and moments of quiet with memories and whispered chatter about home and family.
> 
> Huddled in a corner, hidden from view behind a stack of boxes full of bandages and IV bags, Willa Collar held tightly to the scrap of paper in her hand.

The rain was unrelenting.

It came and it came, never stopping, never letting up. 

Harsh pellets that tore at the skin and beat bruises into uncovered flesh.

The sun was gone, and some wondered if it would ever return. Wondered if they could even remember what it looked like. Felt like.

If they would ever see it’s bright nourishing welcome rays again.

Mud caked everything. Mud and dirt and blood stained every surface. The mournful groans and pain filled moans of the injured melded with the vicious crack of lightning and the roar of the wind outside the bunker. Dim lights cast shadows across the faces of the tired and beaten witches, highlighting the scars and dead eyed stares of those moving out, ordered to take the next watch, charge the next battleline, be the next to fall at the brutal unforgiving hands of the enemy. 

Days blended into each other. Time lost all sense. Hours were marked by fighting, by patrolling, by eating meals and tending to the wounded. 

By sleep and moments of quiet with memories and whispered chatter about home and family.

Huddled in a corner, hidden from view behind a stack of boxes full of bandages and IV bags, Willa Collar held tightly to the scrap of paper in her hand. Grime smudged the edges, and she carefully wiped bits of gravel and grass away with her dirty sleeve. 

Her blue eyes, exhausted and barely able to make out the words and images before her in the dank muted light of the bulb overhead, eagerly traced the slashes of ink and the small wallet sized photo tucked against the inside of her palm.

The words were crooked, some more scratches than letters, but it was obvious they were written with great care. The author took their time. Chose their thoughts carefully. Cherished the ability to connect with the recipient, however tenuous such connection was.

With a deep breath, she held the photo closer to her face. It was a small rectangle and fit perfectly in her palm. The edges were frayed and one corner was ripped, but it was the most precious thing she had. Her daughter’s rueful smile reflected back at her, eyes so much like her own hinting at playful mischief and her father’s mirth teasing the corners of her mouth. She looked so young. Not even out of high school. Blonde hair glinting in the Cession sun and the fields she loved to roam visible behind her. 

Willa’s chin quivered as she lifted a finger, carefully tracing the lines of the young witch’s face.

It would be her daughter’s birthday soon. 

Her eyes closed as her fingers curled into a fist against the picture.

Her daughter would be conscripted soon.

Would be sent to Basic and then the front lines. 

Would be sent here or someplace similar.

Her chest ached as she imagined Raelle next to her, soaked to the bone and unable to sleep because of haunting nightmares and ear piercing screams. The cuts and bruises that would litter her body from the many soldiers she desperately tried to fix. Head full of memories of those she could save...and those she couldn’t. Ears ringing with the roar of tornadoes. The charming grin gone, replaced with a stoic frown. 

Exhausted.

Spent.

Unable to see anything beyond the present. Beyond pain and suffering and never-ending fighting.

The fire that burned inside her, that made her sharp but also almost too soft for this cruel world they lived in, snuffed out, driven down to nothing but cold embers by drill sergeants and orders and a military system that showed again and again that those serving meant nothing more to them than bodies to toss out to various battlefields to live or die.

Willa suddenly felt every day she was away from her family in her bones. It was like thousands of heavy stones were placed on her chest, pushing her down. Could she remember what Edwin’s laugh sounded like? Raelle’s? Would Raelle forget her father’s laugh, too? Would Edwin get to see his little girl ever again once she left for Fort Salem? Once she took the oath? 

Would her daughter have the chance to meet her own Edwin? A pretty girl with a caring soul and charming smile? Have the chance to fall in love? Feel what forever type love felt like?

Willa just wanted to fall asleep and wake up back home. Hear the sounds of the Cession and know her family was safe. They were all safe.

She knew she would be returning home soon. Should be returning within weeks...days even. 

It felt like an eternity.

“That your kid?”

Reacting on pure instinct, Willa jerked her arm to her body, hiding her daughter from view. Hiding her prized possession from anyone else.

Not letting her be taken just yet.

“Hey, didn't mean to startle you. I’m sorry.” A woman with strawberry blonde hair and dark brown eyes offered her a small smile, “Sgt. Young.” She held a hand out.

Willa took it after a second, “Lt. Collar.”

“Nice to meet you, Lt.”

“You, too.” she nodded.

Settling down beside the medic, the redhead nodded at the letter, “From home?”

Willa studied her for a moment, unsure about sharing something so personal...something so cherished. As the other witch waited patiently, eyes clear with compassion, she sighed, “My daughter.”

“What’s her name?”

“Raelle.”

Another nod, “Strong name.”

“Her father picked it.”

The other witch frowned in confusion.

Willa didn’t explain.

Explain how she fell in love with a civilian. Married him for life. Couldn’t imagine spending her life with anyone else. 

How they had a baby girl, and she was the best thing to ever happen to either of them.

How the army disapproved of her choices. Deployed her so often she needed the photo to remember what her little girl’s smile looked like. Sometimes she forgot what her voice sounded like. What her husband’s embrace felt like. What their little home in the Cession smelled like on an early Sunday morning when her two loves would burn breakfast before heading outside to practice lacrosse so Raelle was prepared for when the school season started.

That her husband lost his job twice because he married a witch.

That she heard in passing from a friendly voice that her pension was smaller than everyone else’s.

That her daughter returned home more than once with bruises from fighting with some kids from one of the nearby schools who had picked a fight with the halfbreed.

That she kept going, even though she couldn’t sleep. Sometimes felt like she couldn’t breathe. All because she had a little girl and a husband to return home to.

Didn’t say that she was so tired, sometimes she just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

That she was absolutely terrified her daughter would be where she was so very soon, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

That she couldn’t remember a time when she had been proud to serve, had thought she would make a difference with her skills.

“She at Fort Salem yet?” the sergeant asked instead.

Willa shook her head, “Not yet. Soon.” Too soon.

A nod and a whistle, “Basic is a bitch.”

Willa chuckled lightly, “Yeah.”

“War College?”

“No.” A Collar had never gone to War College. Cessions rarely went. 

A thoughtful look, “She going to be a medic, you think?”

A shrug, “Runs in the family.” And Raelle had shown an aptitude for fixing. Her sweet heart led her to want to help people, even when she was little. Willa had taught her most of what she knew, and Raelle had eagerly soaked up the knowledge, the methods, the time spent with her mama. Wanted to be just like Willa. 

“Must be tough, knowing your kid is gonna be here.”

Willa felt her shoulders tense.

The redhead’s voice quieted to a murmur, “Conscription. Haunts us all. Takes from us all.” Her eyes met Willa’s, offering something Willa didn’t quite understand, “The army makes us be here. Makes us send our daughters here. They’re just kids. We’re all just kids. Yet, they don’t care. Don’t care that we aren’t even fighting for ourselves. We are bleeding for someone else’s war. Dying without a say in how or why.”

Willa felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Cold swept down her spine.

Yet.

Yet.

In her mind, slowed with hunger and unending despair, the words felt like what she knew resided in her soul yet she could never find the words to describe.

What crept into her heart when she looked at Raelle’s photo.

Before she could respond, a rush of air stormed through the bunker, whipping past the duo and crashing out into the monsoon.

The bang of a distant explosion rocketed through the bunker, and the lights flickered ominously. 

“Collar!” a voice shouted. “We got five incoming! Two critical!”

Willia’s eyes snapped back to her hand, and she stared at her daughter’s visage. At the letter she had written to her.

“Collar!”

Gritting her teeth, she delicately folded the letter around the photo and returned both to her side pocket. 

Never going anywhere without them.

As she stood up, two of her fellow Fixers rushed in, a stretcher with a bleeding incoherent girl, no older than nineteen, gasping for breath, behind them. 

Willa rushed to her side.

“Hey, girl.” she murmured, “You’ll be alright.”

The young witch shook her head, spit and blood trickling from her mouth like tiny rivers of death.

“Hey,” Willa placed her hands on her chest, “Look at me.”

The girl’s eyes, dark brown and full of panic, met her own, “Please,” she whispered, voice little more than shattered glass, “Please...please help….please.”

“Shhh.” Willa pressed her hands to her chest, “You’ll be ok.”

She knew before she linked.

Knew it right when she saw her.

Choking on her own blood.

Mind half gone with pain and fear.

“I need some morphine over here.” Willa called over her shoulder. Taking a breath, she began to chant, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”

The girl cried out in pain, more red seeping through her already blood and rain soaked uniform.

Willa felt the agony. The broken bones. The pierced lung. The shattered body.

Biting her lip, she allowed some of the pain to attach to her mind, sweep through her veins and take hold of her own form.

It wasn’t enough.

It couldn't be enough.

She wasn’t going to save this girl.

She couldn’t save her.

“Please,” the girl whimpered. “Please.”

“Shh.” Willa soothed. She lifted a hand, the link instantly breaking. Her body sagged as the pain dulled. Swallowing thickly, she smoothed back tangled blonde braids. “You’re ok. You’ll be ok.”

The lies tasted bitter on her tongue.

“I...I…” the girl gasped. 

“Rest, dear.” Willa softly comforted her. “You did good.”

“Can I go home now?” the girl asked quietly, the words gurgling in the back of her throat.

Willa nodded, “When you wake up, you’ll be back home. Safe and sound.”

The girl’s eyes began to close, “Promise?”

“Yes, little bird, I promise.”

“Home.” whispered wetly.

A shuddering breath.

Then, nothing.

Willa leaned back, hands shaking as she let them drop away from the young private. She stared at glassy unseeing eyes. The soul gone from them, never to return.

“Collar?” someone stepped up behind her.

Willa wiped at her face, smearing the red water across her pale cheeks, “She’s gone.”

A pause.

“Alright, necros can take her.” a whistle “Holder, got another one for you!”

Willa stepped back, unable to watch as two soldiers, no older than the private, marched up and grabbed the stretcher, lifting and quickly leaving.

Already racing, fighting, against time.

Everything was a fight.

Willa’s eyes slowly darted around.

Landing on one young witch after another. All bloody. All despondent. All tired.

The photo in her pocket burned like a flame. Like someone had taken a lighter and flicked it to life, setting her uniform ablaze.

The girl was almost the same age as Raelle.

Blonde hair. Youthful face.

She stood still, unaware of the hustle and bustle around her.

Pursing her lips, Willa startled as a hand fell on her shoulder.

“Come on, looks like you could use a drink.”

Blinking, Willa glanced at whoever was speaking to her.

It was the Sergeant, an entreating smile and an offered hand of friendship.

“This way,” the sergeant gestured, “that looked tough.”

Willa squinted but didn’t reply.

Unperturbed, the other witch continued, “How many kids do you got?”

Willa finally spoke up, “One.”

“Ah. From the photo. She’s…”

“Almost seventeen.” 

A low whistle, “Really is almost ready to join us, then.”

Willa’s jaw locked.

Join them.

Here.

In the middle of death.

“You ever wonder what it would be like?” the sergeant led her over to a pile of boxes. She bent over, shuffling around inside one before pulling out a bottle. 

“What?” Willa hesitantly took the offered drink.

“If we didn’t have to fight.” her voice lowered, “If our kids didn’t have to die.”

Willa stared at her.

“There’s a way to save everyone. Maybe save your daughter.” The sergeant met Willa’s gaze head on. 

“The way out” a shrug, “is in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it folks! MFS Week 2020 is complete! Thanks for joining me on this wild ride. I appreciate you all!


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